Back when I was a kid, I always enjoyed parties. Not because of the food, or the jolly music, or the minimal yet exaggerated decor, but because of the people. I enjoyed their reactions, their participation during the event. But mostly, I enjoyed how kids at my or someone else's party are smiling.
We were at a local fast-food restaurant, a few hours away from home, ordering for a dinner with my colleagues from school. They're a bunch of happy-go-lucky teenagers but I chose to be friends with them even if I was an exact opposite of their personalities. It's almost midnight, the clouds seemed to be darker, and the wind was blowing colder breeze than usual. I actually like these kinds of atmosphere. It's soothing.
Almost 20 minutes had already passed and we were almost finished with our meals. Jonathan, a tall guy wearing a black cap, said that he'd like to order again. Alecia, a dark-haired girl wearing glasses who likes Jonathan, stood up hesitantly and said that he would also order another. We insisted that they must not since it's going to rain heavily and it's been too late, but our insistence was futile.
The place was almost packed like it usually does even on late hours like this. Some were small families of four and three enjoying their own meal, some are just couples enjoying their fries. It was a normal, everyday sight. People are coming and going, there were laughter and chatter. It's something so usual that even getting used to it is not enough.
A few minutes had also gone by and the two haven't returned with their orders yet. Most of us were finished with ours by that time. I should've brought a jacket with me, I thought, because it was excruciatingly cold in the area where I was sitting. Finally, my bladder couldn't hold the pressure much longer and a mandatory dispersion of yellowish, uric fluid from my body is a must.
I asked my buddies to excuse me because something's going to explode and turn into a running faucet. I asked a crew of where are their comfortable rooms and he said that they were on the top floor, near the party room.
Like a cheetah, I ran upstairs until I reached the topmost floor. It was empty and a bit shady. There were small monoblocks and party balloons inside the party room the crew was talking about. It was spacious and indeed perfect for any party, but I guess most of their parties are birthdays. This reminds of those times where I held my parties at our house and where lots of people gather to celebrate my special day. I always enjoyed them because the people who attended my party also enjoyed it. Those were indeed some of my memorable moments.
I scanned across the floor until I finally found the "boy" signage printed on the top of a white, wooden door. That part of the floor was even darker. I was able to get inside, and luckily the switches for its lights were just outside right next to the door.
After "doing my little business", I washed my hands and then dried them off. But that doesn't end there. You see, even if I'm a dude, I'm pretty meticulous about how I look like. With a little water and a small packet of face wash inside my packet, I scrubbed my face and wipe the water off with the paper towels. I took out a small comb and began grooming my hair until it perfectly matched the style I wanted them to have.
I was still combing my hair when I heard the door behind me opened and closed. I heard footsteps coming from behind me until it slowly faded. I heard a door a from a toilet cubicle slammed carefully enough just to make a sound I could hear. I wasn't paying attention to that someone who entered that much because I wasn't done grooming my hair.
After finishing grooming my hair I took a quick look at the person who went inside and to my surprise, I noticed something familiar with that person - he, as I assumed, was wearing the same rubber shoes as Jonathan.
"Hey, dude!" I shouted, "are our friends still downstairs or have they left us?"
There was no response. Other than the sound of dripping water and beaming light bulbs, it was just dead quiet.
"Because if they do then I'll tell them that I won't come to shenanigans like this anymore. It's fucking late! I have to do my assi-- " I paused briefly and stopped whatever I was doing. I took three steps forward and just looked directly at his shoes. "Hey, are you even liste-"
"Happy Birthday to you." Jonathan said.
"What?"
"Happy Birthday to you..." He said again, with a tone of a famous song.
"What the hell? Dude, it's not my birthday."
"Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday..." He continued. There was a sudden change to his voice in each word that comes out from his mouth. And each word felt like thunderbolts flying towards me.
I felt a sudden chill down my spine.
"Jonathan, stop this bullshit, it ain't funny." He did stop. The song didn't continue. I took small steps toward him for confrontation but I quickly stopped when the lights above his area have gone out. I was left standing in almost at the middle of the whole comfort room.
I heard a clank from his door. The lock must have been taken off. I didn't know what I was actually doing but I could feel myself getting petrified for unknown reasons.
The door of the toilet cubicle where Jonathan was slowly opened. It's creaking echoed through the room along with the dripping of water and beaming of the bulbs. And from that moment I couldn't feel anything but the chills that ran on and on. It was highly uncomfortable.
The door stopped and it was opened almost half-way. It was pitch inside the cubicle. I could barely see Jonathan inside, but I know he's inside. Or something's inside.
I took the dumbest decision to try to investigate, as any dumb character in a horror movie would do. "Jonathan?" I asked. Butterflies were continuously flapping their wings inside my stomach that it almost made me want to vomit.
Like flash flood, a gush of fear circulated around my body as I saw him looked out at me and he stared at me with those reddish eyes. It was indeed dark at his area, but the only thing I could see was his eyes. I was petrified and the terror grew more when he sang again.
"Happy Birthday to you." It was smiling at me.
I forced myself to put one step back.
"Happy Birthday to you." The smiles grew bigger that I could almost see its teeth.
I forced my other foot to put another step back.
"Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday... Happy Birthday to you...." The smile disappeared and spawned the most horrific laugh I have ever heard.
Finally, I've built up much adrenaline to make a run for it. I quickly ran towards the door behind me as the lights above me began to go out. Outside, I started running quickly to the stairs until I reached the bottom.
When I was about to take another step down I almost stumbled upon Alecia and Jonathan. I almost punched Jonathan in the face when suddenly woke up from the realization that he is the real Jonathan. I was panting and sweating a lot, they noticed it. They asked me to sit down first and rest and continued to ask where I had been.
"Oh...uhm... upstairs, in the bathroom," I replied.
"Wow, it took you three hours just to make shit?"
Three hours?! I kept repeating myself. I was inside that hell of a room for three hours but felt like I was inside for at least an hour.
"We were worried that something might have happened to you so we decided to come and get you, but I guess you won't be needing that now," Alecia said.
I calmed myself down. I jolted to Jonathan and looked him directly in the eye. I told him everything that had happened to me earlier. They laughed at me at first, telling me that I may have been using way too many drugs or asking me if I had been drunk. I persistently explained to them what happened and soon made them to somehow believe me.
"But why me, of all people?" Jonathan asked.
"I... I don't know." I replied.